Special Recipe
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Disclaimer: Power rangers isn't mine.
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"Cheer up, guys. Why the long faces?"
Conner's carefree voice was like a jackhammer driving through Trent's skull.
"Connor," he said through gritted teeth from where his forehead rested on the table. "If you don't shut up, I swear by every comic book in my collection that I will find a way to trap you in the darkest, smallest dimension I can find, along with a monster that has a grudge against you and a very sharp sword."
"I'll help," Kira said, voice muffled from where it was buried in her arms.
"I'll get Zeltrax," Ethan volunteered without opening his eyes. His cheek was pressed against the table, and his voice was drowsy.
"Oh come on, guys. That's the lamest threat I've ever heard. What sort of bad guy would –"
"Leave them alone, Connor," Hayley said firmly, shooing him away. "They're still recovering from the loss of the energy you sucked out of them to power the Shield of Triumph."
She set a glass of a dubious orange substance in front of Trent. Trent blinked blurrily and tried to focus. On closer inspection, the stuff didn't look any more appetizing.
"What's that?" He asked.
"Something to get your energy levels back up," Hayley said. She walked about the table and put a glass of the same in front of Ethan and Kira. "Karone's special recipe. It's something that sorcerers use when they've drained a lot of their power. She said it should work on rangers too."
If Trent had been reluctant to drink it before, he was now doubly so. He'd had more than his fair share of evil villains giving him things, thank you very much. He eyed the glass as he would a poisonous snake.
"Drink up," Hayley urged. "You've got to have another two glasses after this."
Ethan managed a tired groan, and nothing more. But Hayley didn't look like she was going to give up on this. So , with an effort, Trent raised his head. He picked up the glass with a shaking hand and took a cautious sip.
It hit the back of his throat like liquid napalm.
He choked, spitting it across the table. Ethan managed to grunt in protest when a few drops landed on his arm.
Trent's whole mouth was tingling unpleasantly, and his tongue felt like he'd just used it to lick an exhaust pipe. His throat closed up and he couldn't speak for a couple of seconds. Good thing too – the words he had in mind would have scored him a detention and extra zord-washing duties.
When he finally regained the power of speech, the first thing he said was;
"I am not drinking this!"
He fervently wished he could call them back when Hayley turned her steely gaze on him.
"I mean…why do we have to drink it?" He amended weakly.
"A great deal of power was drained out of you," she explained patiently. "Tommy will be okay because he's stuck in morph, but for the rest of you, your bodies need to regenerate. This will help do that."
For someone of only average height, she managed to loom very well.
"Now drink up."
What it came down to, Trent thought, was who he was more afraid of. The glass of liquid fire made by an ex-evil empress, or the slender red-head with her hands on her hips and a dangerous light in her eyes.
He picked up the glass.